Concertina, Fanfiction by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kisahawklin
Apr. 13th, 2010 01:19 amkisahawklin posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
queerlygenTitle: Concertina
Creator:kisahawklin
Universe: Criminal Minds
Type of work: Fanfiction
Contains: Classical music, sexual identity confusion, coming out conversation
Summary and/or notes: Gideon and Reid go to a concert and have pie.
At first, Jason watched Reid listen to music as a way to avoid watching the conductor. It didn't take long for Jason to start watching Reid because his face is a more fascinating interpretation of the music than some guy waving his arms around.
He listens to contemporary music with his concentration face, peering at the stage like he can see the notes and harmonies crossing in mid-air. Maybe he can – Jason's never pretended to understand how Reid's mind works. He just knows the press and release of ideas that makes Reid take another perspective, and he only does that when he needs to.
They've sat through Finlandia – a look of rapture on Reid's face the whole time, leaning forward in his seat until he almost fell out of it – and the percussion concerto, which wasn’t Jason's cup of tea, though watching Reid think his way through it was a delight.
The Beethoven is something else altogether. Reid sits back in his chair, closes his eyes, and sits absolutely still. Every once in a while, Jason thinks he sees Reid's Adam's apple bob, like he's trying to sing along but keeping it trapped in his throat.
The second movement, Jason's favorite, and the reason he asked Reid to this concert, begins with its quiet, pensive theme, moving toward happiness and then backing away, as if it got too close, it might get burned.
When he glances back at Reid at the opening of the third movement, Reid is watching him as carefully as he normally watches Reid. He feels like a bug under glass.
He gives Reid a nod of recognition and Reid sits back, closing his eyes once more. He looks peaceful as they race to the end of the piece, with the cheery themes prevalent and all the reservedness of the second movement washed away in music written as a celebration.
~~~~~
Afterwards, they go for pie. It's a tradition, one Reid's mother started when he took up the cello for a few brief months. Jason would like to know what could make Reid stop doing something he so obviously loved, but asking is out of the question with Reid. Eventually Reid will tell him, but not yet. Not until he needs to.
Jason sits through a deconstruction of the percussion concerto – "and the theme that was so spread, in half-steps and quarter-steps among the winds, is given a clarion call, a trumpet to gather the forces, around the clear, bright notes of the tubular bells" – and a brief story about Reid's mother's love of Sibelius, more prevalent the worse her mental health got, before Reid winds down into an uncomfortable silence.
Reid asks things on the spur of the moment, things he shouldn't ask, or doesn't understand are personal, and Jason doesn't mind. He answers or lets Reid know it's inappropriate depending on his mood and the information he's requesting. He doesn't ask things of Jason when he knows, though. If there's something between them, if there's something Reid wants to know but won't ask, those waters are much trickier to navigate. He knows Reid wants to ask him about the Beethoven and it hangs in the air between them, heavy and not quite uncomfortable. Jason changes the subject.
"So how did your date with JJ go?" he asks instead, moving the spotlight back onto Reid.
Reid smiles half-heartedly and shakes his head. "She enjoyed the game, anyway."
"Oh, damn," Jason says with real sympathy. He likes JJ, and she treats Reid like a person instead of a dictionary. It's a surprisingly uncommon approach to Reid.
"It's okay," Reid says. "She was very nice about it, and didn't even give me the 'just friends' speech."
Jason sighs. "Well, you'll find the right girl someday. You just have to keep looking."
Reid nods and looks down at the table, drinking his shake with extreme concentration.
"Reid?" Jason asks. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Uh, no," Reid says, immediately sticking the straw back in his mouth and pulling his cheeks in as he works on the thick milkshake.
"What?" Jason asks. "You don't want to meet a nice girl?"
Reid looks up at him, straw still in his mouth.
"You want to meet a naughty girl?"
Reid stares, a confused mix of horror and embarrassment and frustration on his face.
"I don't want to meet a girl," he says, his lips not leaving his straw.
He goes back to sucking almost immediately, and Jason takes a moment while bits and pieces of information about Reid rearrange themselves in his mind.
"Well why didn't you tell me so when I gave you those tickets? You could have asked Morgan instead."
Reid rolls his eyes. "I don't like Morgan. I just… don't know, yet."
"Okay," Jason says, as the waitress shows up with their pie. "That's okay."
The relief on Reid's face makes Jason feel guilty that he misinterpreted the nervousness and self-deprication as inexperience, or at least solely inexperience. "Eat your pie, Reid," Jason says, leaning across the table to get a forkful of the strawberry-rhubarb that is Reid's favorite. Reid knocks his fork aside and makes a play for a peach slice sliding out of his own pie, and the world settles back to normal a little at a time with each laugh and parry.
Creator:
kisahawklinUniverse: Criminal Minds
Type of work: Fanfiction
Contains: Classical music, sexual identity confusion, coming out conversation
Summary and/or notes: Gideon and Reid go to a concert and have pie.
At first, Jason watched Reid listen to music as a way to avoid watching the conductor. It didn't take long for Jason to start watching Reid because his face is a more fascinating interpretation of the music than some guy waving his arms around.
He listens to contemporary music with his concentration face, peering at the stage like he can see the notes and harmonies crossing in mid-air. Maybe he can – Jason's never pretended to understand how Reid's mind works. He just knows the press and release of ideas that makes Reid take another perspective, and he only does that when he needs to.
They've sat through Finlandia – a look of rapture on Reid's face the whole time, leaning forward in his seat until he almost fell out of it – and the percussion concerto, which wasn’t Jason's cup of tea, though watching Reid think his way through it was a delight.
The Beethoven is something else altogether. Reid sits back in his chair, closes his eyes, and sits absolutely still. Every once in a while, Jason thinks he sees Reid's Adam's apple bob, like he's trying to sing along but keeping it trapped in his throat.
The second movement, Jason's favorite, and the reason he asked Reid to this concert, begins with its quiet, pensive theme, moving toward happiness and then backing away, as if it got too close, it might get burned.
When he glances back at Reid at the opening of the third movement, Reid is watching him as carefully as he normally watches Reid. He feels like a bug under glass.
He gives Reid a nod of recognition and Reid sits back, closing his eyes once more. He looks peaceful as they race to the end of the piece, with the cheery themes prevalent and all the reservedness of the second movement washed away in music written as a celebration.
Afterwards, they go for pie. It's a tradition, one Reid's mother started when he took up the cello for a few brief months. Jason would like to know what could make Reid stop doing something he so obviously loved, but asking is out of the question with Reid. Eventually Reid will tell him, but not yet. Not until he needs to.
Jason sits through a deconstruction of the percussion concerto – "and the theme that was so spread, in half-steps and quarter-steps among the winds, is given a clarion call, a trumpet to gather the forces, around the clear, bright notes of the tubular bells" – and a brief story about Reid's mother's love of Sibelius, more prevalent the worse her mental health got, before Reid winds down into an uncomfortable silence.
Reid asks things on the spur of the moment, things he shouldn't ask, or doesn't understand are personal, and Jason doesn't mind. He answers or lets Reid know it's inappropriate depending on his mood and the information he's requesting. He doesn't ask things of Jason when he knows, though. If there's something between them, if there's something Reid wants to know but won't ask, those waters are much trickier to navigate. He knows Reid wants to ask him about the Beethoven and it hangs in the air between them, heavy and not quite uncomfortable. Jason changes the subject.
"So how did your date with JJ go?" he asks instead, moving the spotlight back onto Reid.
Reid smiles half-heartedly and shakes his head. "She enjoyed the game, anyway."
"Oh, damn," Jason says with real sympathy. He likes JJ, and she treats Reid like a person instead of a dictionary. It's a surprisingly uncommon approach to Reid.
"It's okay," Reid says. "She was very nice about it, and didn't even give me the 'just friends' speech."
Jason sighs. "Well, you'll find the right girl someday. You just have to keep looking."
Reid nods and looks down at the table, drinking his shake with extreme concentration.
"Reid?" Jason asks. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Uh, no," Reid says, immediately sticking the straw back in his mouth and pulling his cheeks in as he works on the thick milkshake.
"What?" Jason asks. "You don't want to meet a nice girl?"
Reid looks up at him, straw still in his mouth.
"You want to meet a naughty girl?"
Reid stares, a confused mix of horror and embarrassment and frustration on his face.
"I don't want to meet a girl," he says, his lips not leaving his straw.
He goes back to sucking almost immediately, and Jason takes a moment while bits and pieces of information about Reid rearrange themselves in his mind.
"Well why didn't you tell me so when I gave you those tickets? You could have asked Morgan instead."
Reid rolls his eyes. "I don't like Morgan. I just… don't know, yet."
"Okay," Jason says, as the waitress shows up with their pie. "That's okay."
The relief on Reid's face makes Jason feel guilty that he misinterpreted the nervousness and self-deprication as inexperience, or at least solely inexperience. "Eat your pie, Reid," Jason says, leaning across the table to get a forkful of the strawberry-rhubarb that is Reid's favorite. Reid knocks his fork aside and makes a play for a peach slice sliding out of his own pie, and the world settles back to normal a little at a time with each laugh and parry.